


Earth to Sky, Sigh to Sigh

by donutsweeper



Category: Wild Wild West (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Rescue, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: Jim has been captured so it's time for Artie to ride to the rescue. Again.
Relationships: Artemus Gordon & James West
Comments: 17
Kudos: 25
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Earth to Sky, Sigh to Sigh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corvidology](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvidology/gifts).



> Thanks to W for the beta!

Artemus Gordon knew he was a talented man. It wasn't taking on airs or bragging to say such a thing, it was the truth. There wasn't a single other person he'd ever met or even heard of who could purport to be a member of Russian royalty one day and a Mexican peasant the next. And if that weren't enough two days after that he might be a Jewish grandmother followed by becoming a Brooklyn dandy, a Southern gentleman, and a drunk, belligerent Frenchman only a few hours apart a week later. Not only did he have a gift for impressions, accents, and languages but also had risen to the rank of captain during the war and now was one of the best Secret Service agents in the entire United States and had the numerous citations to prove it.

However all the smarts and talent in the world did little to make up for the fact that his partner was a goddamn idiot and had gotten himself captured. Again. Could the man not go a full month without getting captured or kidnapped or shanghaied or taken or snatched or what have you? Unfortunately, Artie suspected the answer was not only a resounding "no" but also contained the addendum that he wasn't even going to be able to manage it for a fortnight. A week, maybe. There was a chance he might even last ten days, especially if a chunk of it was spent traveling, but a full two weeks? Not a chance. If he went anywhere near beautiful women or dangerous men (or vice versa, as Jim was an equal opportunity idiot that way) he was going to find himself in dire straits and it would be up to old Artie to get him out of it.

One of these days he was just going to give up and wash his hands of the whole thing and run off to join the circus or some sort of travelling theater company or minstrel show or _something_ and leave Jim to clean up his own messes and save his own skin. Today, fortunately for Jim but unfortunately for Artie, was not that day. As a result, instead of relaxing on the train and either reading a book or perhaps listening to something on the phonograph, he'd spent two hours painstakingly gathering information and now, instead of sitting down to the steak dinner he'd planned, here he was trying to sneak into yet another criminal's den to rescue his wayward partner. 

After dispatching the two men who were standing guard at the rear entrance of a supposedly abandoned estate he made his way around the building where he found another three similarly dressed men suspiciously loitering in that way hired thugs always did when they had been hired as extra protection but hadn't been given any orders on how specifically they were supposed to go about providing it so he took care of them as well just in case they might get it in their heads to wander around to the back and find the downed guards before Artie' managed to rescue Jim and they'd escaped. With an exit thus secured, he picked the lock and eased his way inside. 

Once his eyes adjusted to the light it was hard to refrain from shaking his head at the opulence he found there: plush carpeting that was so thick he practically sank into it, a brass banister that must have have been polished for hours every week to maintain such a shine, and an obviously imported crystal chandelier. Really? Why was there never any middle ground when it came to the sort of master criminals and mad scientists they crossed paths with? It was always either half collapsed hovels and dirty caves or palatial homes and luxurious places of business. 

Artie would never understand it. If only these master criminals would spend even a portion of the money they wasted on lavishness on a better quality of help then it would be much more difficult to best them and either dismantle their operation or thwart their plans.

Actually, never mind, maybe the ridiculous indulgences was a good thing. The easier they were to defeat the better, after all.

Considering both evil laboratories and prison cells were most commonly found in the lower levels of most criminals' lairs, Artie headed down instead of up, dispatching yet another guard on the way. Jim had better be appreciative after all this work; he was going to actually break a sweat if he kept this up. He'd nearly made it to the bottom and was slowly inching his way down the last few steps when he heard a commotion coming from somewhere further along. 

Peering around the corner he saw a long stone corridor with a huge, heavy door at the end. The two guards stationed there were shooting each other looks and shrugs of the 'should we go see what's going on or stay at our posts' variety. Luckily, for Artie anyway, they decided to leave their posts and unlocked the door. Upon opening it, however, the first got a very familiar knife looking to the chest and the other had just enough time to raise his gun before being felled himself, although he was killed rather inelegantly by a large silver platter smacking him in the neck, breaking it.

Well, he supposed, that answered the question of whether or not he'd found where they'd been keeping Jim. 

Carefully poking his head inside, Artie found Jim had already managed to mostly free himself. He had obviously been bound spread-eagle to a contraption in the center of the room however they had not only left his jacket on him, but there also must have been some slack in how they'd restrained him so as a result he'd managed to slip the wire lockpick out of his right sleeve's lining and then picked the lock to free that hand. With one hand free he was able to use the various weapons he kept secreted upon his person to fight the people who had been in the room with him. 

"Hey, Artie. About time you showed up," Jim grumbled, not even looking up from his attempts to pick the remaining locks.

"If you want me to arrive according to a specific schedule to all of your rescues, you're going to need to pencil your kidnappings into my calendar. But I'll warn you, I'm already fairly booked up," he joked as he pulled out his own set of lockpicks and began working to free Jim's ankles, "so maybe you could try to have this happen a little less often?"

"You say that like it's my fault."

Artie opened his mouth to respond to that but found himself actually shocked to silence for a moment. Never one to be at a loss for words for long, the moment passed almost immediately but he didn't get any further than commenting, "Well, now that you mention it—" before Jim interrupted him with a quick,

"You know what, no, never mind. Forget I said anything about it." The last lock clicked open then and Jim jumped to his feet.

"That's probably for the best," Artie replied wryly. "Do you even know who grabbed you or why you were taken? All I could find out was that despite this being by all appearances an empty estate there's been a lot of wagons in and out of here recently, including the one that was carrying you. The records of the previous owners were destroyed in a suspiciously convenient fire a few months ago and no one in town could tell me who lived here now."

"No idea. Those two," he pointed to the two dead men on the far side of the room, "mentioned something about how, once he returned, the boss was going to be 'thrilled' by the new development and that they'd be getting a big bonus for grabbing me but they didn't mention him by name."

Artie sighed as he checked the pockets of various unfortunate guards in hopes of unearthing something about who they worked for. Nothing. Not that he'd truly expected anything different. "Well, great. I guess that means we should keep an eye on this place until this mysterious boss makes an appearance despite the fact we have no idea how long that'll be."

"We probably should."

"And it's supposed to be cold tonight; I think there's even a possibility of snow."

"We'll bundle up, it'll be fine."

"So much for those tickets to the theater I had."

"Oh, cheer up, Artie! I'll be there to keep you company!" Jim grinned, patting him on the back as he walked past. 

"Wonderful. The day continues to bear gifts."

"By the way," Jim shot over his shoulder when he reached the doorway, "did I thank you for coming to my rescue?"

"No, no you didn't." Artie paused, waiting a moment for the thanks, but Jim just continued down the hall and didn't say anything else. "Jim? Jim?"


End file.
